5.

The Choice of Her Heart

Episode 5: The Ghost of Yesterday

The moment Evelyn deleted the message, she regretted it.

Not because she wanted to keep it. Not because she wanted to respond.

But because she hated how one simple text had made her heart race.

She tossed her phone onto the bar counter and exhaled sharply. Enough. She wouldn’t allow herself to be affected. Not by him. Not after everything.

But as much as she wanted to push it aside, the past had a way of creeping in when she least expected it.

And tonight, it was relentless.

She walked away from the bar, heading toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. The view was breathtaking—millions of lights blinking like stars, the world moving without pause. It should have been comforting.

But all she could see was twelve years ago.

Twelve Years Ago

The summer air had been warm, carrying the scent of jasmine as she stood outside the café, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag.

"You're late," she had teased, a playful pout on her lips.

Lucian had only grinned, that infuriatingly charming grin that had always made her forgive him too easily. "I had to make an important stop."

She raised a brow. "Oh? What was so important that you kept me waiting?"

Instead of answering, he pulled something from behind his back. A single white lily.

Evelyn had blinked, surprised. "Lucian..."

He tucked the flower behind her ear, his fingers barely brushing against her skin. "You always say roses are too much, so I figured this was better."

She swallowed, her heart swelling with warmth.

"You’re impossible," she murmured, but her lips curved into a smile anyway.

Lucian leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Only for you."

She had believed him then. Foolishly. Completely.

That night, under the soft glow of streetlights, he had kissed her like she was the only thing in his world.

And for a while, she had been.

Until one day, he disappeared.

No goodbye. No explanation. Just... gone.

Present Day

Evelyn's hands clenched into fists. The memory felt too fresh, as if twelve years hadn’t passed.

She hated how vivid it still was.

How much it still hurt.

She closed her eyes, inhaling slowly, forcing the emotions down. She wasn’t that girl anymore.

A soft knock echoed through the penthouse.

She turned, surprised. It was late. Damian should still be out.

She walked toward the door and opened it.

The last person she expected to see stood there.

Lucian.

Her breath caught.

He leaned against the doorframe, his green eyes unreadable, his presence overwhelming even in the dim lighting. He had always had that effect—effortlessly consuming the space around him.

But Evelyn didn’t move. Didn’t react.

She lifted a brow, voice calm. “Breaking into a private residence? Bold.”

Lucian smirked. “I asked your doorman nicely.”

Of course he did.

She exhaled slowly, gripping the door handle. “Leave.”

His smirk faded. “Not yet.”

Her heart pounded, but her expression remained cold. “I have nothing to say to you, Lucian.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Then don’t say anything. Just listen.”

She opened her mouth to refuse, but hesitated.

That brief moment of weakness was all he needed.

Lucian stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The air in the room shifted.